Imaginary Love
by hklover12
Summary: When Kurt was a little boy, every Sunday he would visit his mother at the cemetary and always had the company of his imaginary friend. Sadly little boys grow up, and imaginary friends move on. Now, 20 years later Kurt needs some of that magic again.
1. Prologue

BLAINE was running as fast as he could, racing down thickly congested streets toward New York Hospital – Kurt was dying there – when suddenly a scene from the past came back to him, a dizzying rush of overpowering memories that nearly knocked him out of his new converse shoes. He remembered sitting with Kurt in the cemetery smack dab in the middle of Lima Ohio, the two of them there under circumstances too improbable to imagine. He remembered everything perfectly – Kurt's hand clutching the yellow roses tightly in his small hands, what they talked about – as if it had happened just yesterday. All of it almost impossible to believe No, definitely impossible to believe. It was just like every other unfathomable mystery in life, Blaine couldn't help thinking as he ran harder, faster. Like Kurt dying on him now, after everything they had been through to be together. 


	2. 1: Sundays with my Best Friend

Imaginary Love

Sundays with my Best Friend

_ EVERY_ detail of those Sunday afternoons are locked away in my memory. But instead of explaining me and Blaine right off the bat, I'll start with yellow roses.

Yellow roses were my mothers favorite flower, she would always smile brightly whenever my father would come home with them, she always say that the flower shop down the street from our house sold the best and most beautiful ones. I would always sit and watch as she gingerly placed them one by one in ice cold water in a vase that she revived as a wedding gift just months before I was born. Sadly I would only get to witness that happiness in her eyes for eight years of my life before she suddenly passed away. That's when I met him. Blaine stood far off in the distance as I watched everyone else talk in hushed tones with my father as I stood by his side, my small hand in his larger one. I was using his ring as a distraction until the man in the distance caught my eye. He smiled softly at me as our eyes met. I smiled back as my face suddenly flushed. Blaine crooked his finger, leading me away from my father to join him by the tall oak tree he was standing by.

Not saying a word, Blaine pulled out a single yellow rose. My eyes went wide, how did this man I've never met until today possibly know my mothers favorite flower. Before I could even ask, the man placed the flower in one of my hands and his own gripped mine tightly before leading me back to the crowed of people awaiting the lowering of my mothers casket. I stood in silence next to my father still clutching Blaine's hand and the flower before Blaine crouched down to my level to whisper something in my ear.

"Give your mother the flower." That's exactly what I did, I felt my father pat my head as I leaned over the hole in the ground to lightly toss the flower to my mother, blowing her one last kiss as a little extra to my last goodbye. That's how this all started, from then on Blaine would follow me every sunday with my father to the cemetery for a picnic with my mother. Not once did he leave my side as my father walked around after his turn taking to her, he wanted to give me alone time with her, never aware that Blaine was right next to me when I would talk to her. After our visits Sunday's would turn from sadness to happiness again when my father would drop us off at the ice cream shop a short walk away from _Hummel Tires & Lube _before returning to work.

It was always the same: two fist-sized scoops of coffee ice cream swirled with a river of hot fudge sauce, the kind that gets thicker, whipped cream. Even at eight years old I could tell the difference between real whipped cream and the fake-o nondairy stuff you squirt from a can.

Across from me in the cushy booth was Blaine: he had to be hands down the most handsomest man I knew, or have _ever_ met! At a young age I would have never guessed this was who I was, I had no clue It was the norm for me to like girls – not boys. But Blaine wasn't a boy. He was the kindest, and probably the smartest person in that little cow town. That day his lovely hazel eyes watched me gaze at the sundae with delight as the teenaged waitress in the pink shirt set it in front of me with tantalizing slowness.

For Blaine, a single scoop of Chocolate and Vanilla ice cream in a tiny cup. His ability to deny himself the pleasure of a sundae was something my child's brain couldn't wrap itself around.

"Thank you." Blaine said, adding extreme politeness to his long list of perfect qualities.

To which the waitress only snapped her bubble gum at, never saying a word.

The shop we were in was a small place that doubled as a small diner that not many people came into on a sunday after church, but still there were some people there besides Blaine and I.

"Okay," Blaine said, "time to play the Kurt-and-Blaine game."

I smacked my hands together, my eyes lighting up. I loved this game.

This is how it worked: One of us pointed to a table, and the other had to make up stuff about the people sitting there. The loser paid for dessert.

"Alright...GO!" He said, pointing behind me.

I turned around to find a group of teenaged boys in matching shirts with numbers on them. Without any hesitation. I smirked, "Football players. They just won state championships and are here to celebrate. That fat one with the buzz cut scored the winning goal."

Blaine tilted his head back and laughed. "You're definitely spending too much time with your father. Very good, though, Kurt. Point for you."

"Alright," I said, gesturing toward another table. "That couple over there. What's their story?"

The boy was wearing a gray t-shirt and a blue baseball cap; the girl, bright pink sun dress with flowers at the top.

"Boyfriend-Girlfriend from East Lima," Blaine rattled off easily. "Been dating six months. She told him she's loves him but he's telling her he wants to breakup."

"Oh," I sighed, looking down at the table. I took a deep breath before taking another bite of my melting sundae and let the rich flavors unfold on my tongue. "Yeah I guess everyone breaks up." I watched Blaine bite his lip. "Oh. Wait, Kurt. I have it all wrong. He's not breaking up with her. He's telling her that his parents are planning a trip to Florida and that she's invited too."

"That's much better Blaine." I smiled. "You get a point for that one. Excellent."

I looked down at my bowl and saw that somehow my ice cream sundae had completely disappeared. As it always did.

Blaine glanced around the room dramatically. "Here's one you won't get," he said. He pointed to a man talking to a woman and her son that looked about my age just two tables away.

I looked over. The woman was about in her early thirty's, dressed in overalls and had crazy curly brown hair. The man she was with looked tired, covered in grease and a baseball cap on his bald head. The kid at the woman's side was occupied by the gameboy in his hand.

"That's not funny," I said, but I couldn't help grinning and rolling my eyes. Because of course, the man was my father, and the woman was – Ms. Hudson single mother of Finn Hudson, a boy that was in my class this year.

Every Sunday afternoon when Blaine and I had dessert at the diner, my father would come back to pick me up to go home, always stopping to say a quick hello Ms. Hudson to and her son.

After the diner, we would cap off our Sundays in the back yard having tea parties and playing house as my father plopped down in front of the television to watch sports. Of course, I was okay with those Sundays, because I had Blaine for company. Blaine, who was my best friend in the world, maybe my only friend, when I was eight years old.

_My Imaginary friend_.

I snuggled closer to Blaine in the booth. "Want to know something?" I asked. "It's kinda funny."

"What?" he asked pulling me even closer to his warm chest.

"I think Ms. Hudson likes my dad." I giggled slightly pressing my face into Blaine's sweater vest. Ms. Hudson would always smile brightly when my father came into the diner. She was the first to say hello and the last to say goodbye. It always made me laugh to think about it now that I was totally right at eight that she had a crush on my father.

"Why do you think that?" Blaine asked.

"Little things," I said, "Like the way she always smiles at him and how she is always touching his arm."

"I see." Blaine said with a grin.

"Okay," I said, "New topic. Guess what day Tuesday is."

Blaine tapped his chin a few times. "I have no idea."

"C'mon. You know perfectly well. You _know_, Blaine. This isn't funny."

"Valentine's Day?"

"Stop it!" I told him, kicking him gently under the table. He put on a cheeky grin. "You know what Tuesday is. It's my birthday!"

"Oh yeah. Wow, your getting really old, Kurtie." Blaine poked me in the stomach as I squirmed away from him laughing, swatting his hands away.

"I think my father is having a party for me."

"Hmm," Blaine said. "You don't sound so excited about that."

"Im not – why have a party for a kid with no friends. What I really want is a kitten, a real live kitten." Blaine nodded.

"Kurt you -" Blaine started but saw that my father was headed to our table. This sunday at the diner was coming to a close. It had been another wonderful afternoon for me and Blaine.

"Here comes my dad, Blaine." I whispered. "Look invisible."

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><p><strong>Here is the first Chapter ~ Hope you guys like it :) ! Please R&amp;R<strong>


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